It is no secret that sleep has been a real struggle in our house. From Bitzy’s first days until now, sleep just doesn’t come easily. In fact, the days of sleep training her I still recount as some of the hardest days/nights of my life. Something about watching your 9 month old scream for hours every night for a solid month has left scars. Just on me mind you. She’s the happiest little thing, sleeping 12-13 straight every night. Naptime, on the other hand, is a constant struggle. One day she’ll sleep for 3 hours and the next day she will play in her crib and not nap at all. Which is fine with me except for the fact that at 5:00pm she completely melts down, begins running into the walls and becomes completely delirious due to exhaustion. So, we end up putting her to sleep at 6:00pm rather than 7:00pm.

Sleep? It’s tough stuff.

And Brother? He’s getting better. Those dang teeth have given us fits, but for the past week he’s been sleeping from 6:00pm-12:00am (then I feed) and then from 12:00am-6:00am. I consider that amazing. Especially considering we really haven’t done major sleep training with him.

You see, he’s just an easy baby. Or maybe Bitzy is just super high maintenance? Either way, sleep around here is coveted and much appreciated.

That leads me to a scene that has literally never ever happened in this house. We have a motto around here. Never, ever, ever wake a sleeping baby. Not ever.

So here’s the story:

It was 12:00am last night and I was nursing Brother. With his eyes closed he suckled as the moon glistened on his cheek. It was like something out of a movie. He is just so dang beautiful. And he smells delicious. As I traced the outline of his face I was so moved by love for him. So amazed at the blessing of this baby.

Then, my mind wandered to my sleeping Bitzy in the room next door. “Is she really 2 years old?” I wondered. It seems like she was just a baby, just like Brother. I vividly remember when her tiny body wrapped around me as I nursed her to sleep when she was only 8 months old.

And then, I did the unthinkable.

When I laid Brother down and walked out, I opened the door to my Bitzy’s room. I looked over her crib and whispered, “I love you baby girl.” She immediately woke up obviously. She probably thought she was dreaming because I have never, ever entered her room in the middle of the night. Sure, I stalk her video monitor, but I never go in there.

She got up and said, “Oh Mama, I love you too, so much.”

I picked her up and rocked her. She clung to me in the wee hours of the night and I smelled her hair and neck and recounted the zillion ways that she enlists me to love her.

I remembered her as a tiny baby and tried to memorize every detail of her face. I don’t want to look back in a few years and not remember her as a 2 year old. I want to memorize her every detail. To burn it into my heart and memory and tell her someday all the ways that I have loved her at every age and stage. To remind her that I have loved her completely. Always. Forever.

I cannot promise that this will not happen again. There is something magical about holding a sleeping toddler that is rousing, playful and wild during the day, but at night is limp with sleep and snuggles up closely for protection and love.

In fact, maybe I will again tonight.

Yes, please.

Love to all,

I still haven’t figured out what in the world to do with the staircase. I’m not ready to commit to anything so it has remained the same..however, the toy situation is much better. Wanna see?

Like the good little student I am, when you told me to get baskets for the mountains of toys, I did. I started out with these from TJ Maxx…

And they were great. Very pretty little baskets they were. However, whenever they came off the shelf they began “shedding.” You know, the little bites of brown basket dirt that new baskets have? It drove this Mama crazy. I think we have established that clean floors are very essential to keeping my crazyhead straight, so the brown baskets just wouldn’t do. So, I found these little beauties at your friend and mine, The Wal-Mart.

Much better.

Have you noticed that when you first buy toys they are all pristine in their packaging, but when they get mixed with the other 10 million pieces and toys all the sudden it’s all just JUNK? So, that’s what we have here. Baskets-O-Junk.

Thankfully my babies love their junk, so for now, it can stay.

So, whaddya think?

In any other news, any other advice on the staircase wall? It’s about to give me a heart attack thinking about it. I’m totally obsessing about what should go there and I can’t seem to land on anything that I L-O-V-E.

Do tell!

Have a happy Monday my peeps!

Love to all,

Now that I’ve got a very crafty toddler we’ve been talking a lot about Valentines Day and cutting out zillions of heart (to later tear apart, dip into water and to destroy), coloring hearts and reading lots-o-books about this blessed day of love.

What my little Bitzy Boo doesn’t know is that I’ve got quite a bit of sugar planned for her tiny future. You see, while I’m not AS psycho as I once was about her eating sugar, I’m still a little nuts, so treats in general are a real rarity around here (well, for her anyway. I cannot confirm or deny having icing stashed all over the house for my eating pleasure).

But tonight, oh tonight. We will feast on PINK!

The pink cupcakes are made and ready with 4 different varieties of sprinkles, and clearly strawberry icing awaits as well.

I also made a new deliciously easy batch of cookies and I would love to share the recipe.

This recipe is from way back when my friend Bethany and I first moved to Louisville. We ate these…um…a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. They are SO GOOD- and so very easy. Here it goes.

The ingredients:

One box of cake mix (any kind will do)

2 eggs

1/2 cup oil

1/2 teaspoon of baking powder

food coloring is optional

Do not read the directions on the back of the cake mix…do this instead- Mix together the cake mix, eggs, oil and baking powder. Mixture will be thick. Then, if you want add food coloring. I wanted purple cookies so just like my Kindergarten teacher Miss Patsy taught me, I added red and blue together. Easy Peasy.

Then, roll into round balls and cook at 350 degrees for 8 minutes.

They will look something like this:

Then, decorate however you’d like. Bethany and I used strawberry cake mix with strawberry icing a lot, or lemon cake mix with lemon icing. Amazing. Also, this receipe makes KILLER chocolate chip cookies using a Yellow cake mix with chocolate chips. Check it out!

Here’s the finished product!

Happy Valentines Day everyone!

See this phone? Ya know, the one you had back in 2002 when it was new and cool?  Well, that’s my phone now. I’m old school. It’s simple, straightforward and uncomplicated. Sure it takes me 34 minutes to send a text, but who’s counting?

Unfortunately, my old friend is dying a slow and painful death and we’re up for new contracts.

Zach’s poor old phone can only hold a charge for 15 minutes without dying. It’s bad times up in here.

I’m not gonna lie, things like “iPhone” and “Droid” have been spoken in this house by a certain husband (who shall not be named).

But to me it’s more like, “More money, blah, blah, blah, no coupons, blah, blah, blah, impossible to justify, blah, blah, blah. We should just get jitterbug phones.”

I think we’ve established that I’m, um, how you say? Frugal. And let’s face it, fancy cell phones aren’t cheap.

We do not have a home phone, nor do we really need one, so we must have cell phones.

So now I need all your powers of the world wide web to convince me why we should/shouldn’t get fancy phones. Right now we’re paying around $110 per month for both of us (and our ancient phones) on Verizon, that should be helpful to you as your convince me one way or the other.

Things I need to know:

1. Whose the best carrier?

2. Should we get a fancy phone?

3. Why/Why not?

4. Who in the world is Suri?

So whaddya think? Help a sista out!

Love to all,

In an effort to ignore my dirty floors I’m feeling very reflective this Monday morning.

My Bitzy is at her Lolly’s, my baby boy is sleeping soundly and the sun is pouring in through our big beautiful windows. What a perfect way to begin the week.

This weekend we laid low and stuck around the house mostly. Those are the best weekends if you ask me. The ones where memories are made with crafts, playing pretend and snuggles.

In the midst of our beautifully boring weekend there were many tickle sessions. My babies? They love to be tickled. And Zach and I know the very best tickle spots.

That’s the crazy thing about being a parent. We know our babies inside out. We know the tickle spots that will make them chuckle, also the ones that will made them roar with laughter. They have different levels of ticklishness. Have you ever thought about that? That is a very intimate detail about a person. There are friends I have had for years that I have absolutely no idea where they are ticklish. But my babies? I know every last one. I know their favorite foods, toys and how to instantly make them feel better when they have a boo-boo.

I know them. Like, really know them, better than anyone.

I remember being a bratty teenager and my Mama once saying, “I know you better than anyone.” I’m sure that I rolled my eyes and stomped away like the brat that I was, but it’s true. She does. There is something about sharing life together that is so intimate, something that you can’t really put into words. Knowing someone so completely and understanding them is such a gift.

That said, if I know my babies so well and can read them so completely, how much more does God know us?

Luke 12:7 says, “Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered.”

That’s right. God knows how many hairs are on our head. He knows our tickle spots too. And our tears and our sleep patterns and every single cell in our body. He made them after all.

He knit us together in our Mother’s womb (Psalm 139). He loves us with an eternal love (Jeremiah 31:3). He delights and finds joy in us (Zephaniah 3:17). He has counted our tears (Psalm 56:8).

I think that as people we all want to be known. We want to belong to someone, to be important and loved. I know that I do. It gives great pleasure to know that I am loved so completely by my family.

But more so, the greatest gift is being known and loved by my Creator. To grasp that the Creator of the whole wide world loves me. He loves me with all my ugly imperfections. He still loves me the most, more than I could ever imagine.

Of course He does. He’s my Daddy.

And He’s your Daddy too.

That truth can change your life.

The truth that God not only loves you, but knows you inside out.

That beautiful, amazing truth can give peace for the restless, hope for the hopeless, joy for the weary and love for the lonely.

That truth, can change the world.

My prayer for us all is to feel that love today in a very real and intimate way.

“Know that the Lord is God. It is He who made us, and we are His; We are His people.” Psalm 100:3.

Amen and Amen.

Happy Monday friends,

*Winner is Julie B! Congrats Julie! Your caption is the winner! An email is awaiting you!*

Let’s have some fun peeps! It’s Friday night and my brain is fried. Help me come up with a clever caption for this picture above. Whoever has the best caption will win a $5 gift card to Starbucks! Yay!

Rules:

1. Zach and I are the judges.

2. All you need to do is leave a comment below giving us your hilarious caption.

3. Check back in on Tuesday evening at 10:00pm to see who the winner is!

I have rediscovered Pop Tarts. It was circa 1984 the last time I had one of these amazing rectangles of awesome and boy are they delicious. This could be a very, very, very bad thing.

Thanks to a certain Hulu Plus, I am all caught up on One Tree Hill. There was a time that I wondered how it would survive without Lucas and Peyton, but now I wonder no more. It is freaking fantastic.

Two words that I couldn’t spell if my life depended on it (this how I would spell them without the help of spell check)- Nessisary and Nessisarily. I just can’t seem to get it right!

I am loving NBC’s The Voice right now. Although, I could really do without Cee Lo Green’sequined jumpsuit and creepy white cat. It’s just plain weird.

Also? Is Christina sort of a cartoon character? I want to see her once without make-up. Survey says that she would look at least a zillion times better. Plus, when a gal wears that much lipstick doesn’t it get all over her kids face when she kisses him all day everyday?

Anyway, back to how I can’t spell. What about disentary? I realize that this is a word that you would only see when playing Oregon Trail back in 1991, but still, I would love to know how to actually spell it.

I cannot express to you the joy it brings me to find tiny little princess shoes scattered throughout the house. There is something so beautifully heartwarming about finding Bitzy’s pink ballerina slippers in my closet. I’m so grateful to have a little girl.

Then, tonight as I was folding clothes (my least favorite chore), I matched two itty bitty baby boy socks and told Zach, “I can’t believe that there is a person so tiny that lives in this house who can wear these wee little socks.”

Another word? Fanactical.

I want another pop tart.

I confess that these two exhaust me in a way that I never thought possible…but I confess moreso that I have never been more in love with these tiny little humans than I am right now.

Have a fun Friday ya’ll!

Love to all,

My Bitzy? She’s a talker. And she’s never met a stranger, well that is if said stranger is 3 feet or under. Adults? She’s more weary of, much to my pleasure. This exact scene has happened numerous times where she is begging a child to love her forever and it never fails to bring many smiles to my face. This current situation occurred at Chick-Fila’s playground with a girl around 3 yrs. old.

Bitzy: “HI! MY NAME IS BITZY. WHAT’S YOUR NAME. WANNA PWAY WIT ME?”

Girl: Stares at her. No flinches. No smile. Just stares, ignores her and goes up the steps to the slide.

Bitzy: Eagerly following her. “OKAY. YOU CAN BE MWARY AND I WIT BE JOSFPH AND MY BABY BOY BE JESUS. WE GO TO BEFWEHEM AND SHE MANAGER. OKAY? SOUND GOOD WITTLE FRIEND?”

Girl: Long gone down the slide, hasn’t heard a word.

Bitzy: Still talking to girl, “MWARY, SEE THE BWIGHT STAR? THE ANGEL SAYS ‘HI! DON’T BE SCARED, I NOT A MONSTER!”

Girl: Flies down the slide and is out the door.

Bitzy: “MAMA! WHERE MY FRIEND GO? SHE A NICE FRIEND. WHERE SHE GO, MAMA?”

Me: “I think she needs to finish her lunch with her Mama. Maybe you could go down the slide again.

Bitzy: “BUT I MISS MY BEST FRWEND! I NEED SHE. CAN I SHARE SHE NUGGIES, MAMA? PLLLLEEEASSSEEE MAMA? CAN I? CAN I? CAN I?

Me: “Well, those are her nuggies. Your nuggies are in the bag and when we get in the car you can finish them, OK?”

Bitzy: “BUT WHAT ABOUT MARY? SHE RIDING ON DA DONKEY AND NEEDS A MWANGER MAMA! BABY JESUS IS COMING OUT OF HER BELLY NOW! WHERE DA ANGEL? SHE CAN’T HAVE NUGGIES NOW! SHE NEEDS DA MWANGER?” (She begins banging on the glass yelling at the little girl through the glass). “GURL! GURL! YOU ARE MARY REMEMBER? I BE JOSPEH AND WE BE BEST FRIEND! REMEMBER, DON’T BE SCARED MWARY, GOD IS WIT YOU ALWAYS AND FOREVER. THE MONSTERS WILL NEVER GET YOU. OKAY?”

Me: It should be noted that the girl is not even looking at her, and the Mama is looking at me like my baby girl has lost her ever loving mind. “Okay sweetie. I think the girl needs to finish her lunch. Wanna go down the slide one more time before we go home?”

Bitzy: “I DON’T UNDERSTAND MAMA. WHERE THE DONKEY? BUY WHY MAMA? WHY MARY GONE? SHE GO POO POO PEE PEE IN DA POTTY?”

Me: “Well, I think Mary is finishing her lunch. Do you wanna go down the slide one more time Joseph before we go home?”

Bitzy: “MINE NAME NOT JOSFPH! MINE NAME IS FANCY NANCY. REMEMBER MAMA? MWARY GO POO POO PEE IN DA POTTY RIGHT MAMA?”

Me: “Oh yes, of course. Okay fancy pants, let’s go home, OK? Baby boy needs a nap.”

Bitzy: “MINE NAME NOT FANCY PANTS, IT’S ‘BEHOLD A CHWILD IS BORN’. RIGHT MAMA?”

Me: “Um, sure. That’s your name today. Come on, Behold a Child is Born, let’s go.”

Bitzy: “OKAY MAMA. LET ME GO SAY BYE TO MY BEST FWRIND MWARY.”

Me: “OK, let’s go.”

As we’re walking out the door of the playplace she yells (loudly), “OKAY MWARY, HAVE A GOOD POOPY!”

Never a dull moment!

Love to all,

Actually, no, not this time. This little story is brought to you by way of my red hot flaming cheeks.

So tonight I’m at The Wal-Mart (shocking, I know), and I have a very full cart full of FREEBIES and other wonderful discounted items. As I have taught you, my dear ones, getting the right cashier is a major part of the battle. (PS: I saved 78% tonight. Yee-Haw!).

Admittedly, I have a favorite.

He is around 35ish, super nice and very, very, very fast. I’ve had him several times and by far and away he is my favorite.

So on my weekly trips to The Wal-Mart we have had nice chats about his other job, politics, his daughter, ya know, normal stuff.

Let me also add that your grocery cart really says a lot about you. Right? My cart says that-

A.) I’m a crazy person who buys 20 tubes of toothpaste at a time.

B.) I really love apples.

C.) I make a lot of love to my husband.

WHOA.

Whhhhhaaattttt? This little blog is certainly not X-Rated by any stretch, but I gotta tell ya, as far as my cashier buddy knows, according to my cart we are doing it like bunnies.

Why, you ask?

Well that would be because I get at least 3 bottles of KY Jelly every time I check out.

Again, why exactly?

They are FREE, people. In fact, The Wal-Mart pays me $1.75 per bottle to take them out of the store. Soooo…let’s just say that my stockpile IS NOT lacking in the KY Jelly department.

All that to say, as my dear cashier buddy rang up my coupon for the KY the register beeped.

Oh the dreaded beep.

Then he gives me this really strange look and looks down while grinning from ear to ear.

I innocently say, “What’s the problem?”

And he says, “It just asked me if the KY Jelly was a food item.”

And then, I died.

Honestly, I don’t know if my cheeks have ever burned the way they did tonight.

After several, “Ha, ha, umm…yes…um…I mean no…I mean…oh my…oh dear..okay..ha, ha’s…I mean, it’s free, ya know? I mean, umm…ha, that’s funny…oh dear…I mean, okay, no, free is free and stuff…” he changed the subject to politics and put me out of my 7th grade embarrassed misery.

It was truly and utterly mortifying.

And to be fair, I think he was pretty embarrassed too.

I wonder if he remembers the other 30 tubes that I’ve bought over the past few months?

Now THAT would be even more embarrassing.

Oh well, free is free after all.

Love to all,

As I watched it glisten I recalled this story and I had to hold back my thunderous laughter as to not wake up my baby boy. Because friends, this real life story still makes me laugh.

Let’s revisit this old goody together…{originally written in February ‘10}.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

My Bitzy is a mere 3 months old so the real truths of my horrible pregnancy haven’t vanished into sweet romantic memories.

I know what you’re thinking. I think he is too. The cutest kid ever, right? Right.

Not only is he strikingly handsome, he’s quite agreeable as well.

It also really helps that he’s a Mama’s boy through and through. I don’t mind this one little bit.

But I gotta be honest with you.

Teething? It’s about to put me over the edge.

My sweet, laid back, angelic baby boy has been replaced by a non-napping, whiny, fussy alien child. I know, I know, he’s in pain. I should be more sensitive. And I was, I really was, about 3 teeth ago. Now that we’re working on tooth #5, I’m ready for a break from this teething nonsense.

You see Bitzy cut her bottom 2 teeth around 6 months and didn’t cut any more until she was 13 months old. Then she got 6 teeth in one month. But really it wasn’t so bad. She handled it like a champ. And then the incisors came…OUCH. And we’re still waiting on those dreaded 2 year molars, but the great news is that Bitzy’s teething journey is coming to a welcomed close while Brother’s has just begun.

Do they really need teeth anyway? Why must it be so painful?

Also? I’m not so great at the whole whiny baby thing. It makes me nuts, like literally a little crazy. Perhaps you are one of those parents who don’t mind crying/whining and can carry on normally while your baby melts down. Me? I can’t handle it. And it’s not even that I’m so caring and sensitive and all of that, it’s more that it drives me bananas. So needless to say, over the past month of Brother cutting these teeth and being subsequently miserable, this Mama is ready for my happy boy to return. I miss him.

But there have been some smiles through the painful cries of my wee one.

Take a look:

Even through the tears, the endless amounts of Tylenol and tired eyes, he remains the sweetest little thing ever. I’m smitten indeed.

Happy Monday everyone!

It’s true. All the glorious months of eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it are gone too. Unfortunately.

That’s the great thing about pregnancy. I just eat. And eat. And eat.

I figure that I have my whole life to lose weight, right?

That brings me to today.

It’s true that 38 pounds is a lot of poundage. It really is.

But here’s the catch, it’s all baby weight. Now I’m back to my not so skinny normal weight. Sure I’m not technically overweight, but still, there’s plenty-o-jiggle.

That’s the crazy thing about growing a tiny human in your belly (or 2 of them in 1.5 years), even when the weight comes off, your body is different. Or mine is anyway. All of you gals who look exactly the same as you did before you had a baby: congratulations. Really, I’m not bitter. Nope, not one bit.

I, unfortunately am not one of those girls. While I’m at a comfortable weight for me, the jiggle abounds.

That brings me back to your friend and mine, Weight Watchers.

Below you’ll see a graph of my weight loss since I began in mid-July. (Aren’t I fancy for showing you a graph! So unlike me!)

Notice how the weight at first it was practically falling off me? Then if you’ll notice around October, it was, um, NOT falling off me. Take a closer look below from October to now.

Basically friends, I’ve flat-lined so to speak. I’ve been more much interested in consuming as many cupcakes as possible rather than losing weight. I admit it.

And exercise? Forget about it.

The Holidays are a sugarholics dream/nightmare come true.

So now what?

I’m not gonna lie. My heart has just not been in it. I am a firm believer that in order to effectively lose weight your heart and your head have to be in the game….and mine hasn’t been.

(Gotta getcha getcha getcha head in the game)- Throwback to High School Musical. Holla!

Now that we’ve had our musical break, back to the situation at hand.

The fact is that I’m thrilled the baby weight is gone, but I really and truly want to lose more. I’m greedy like that. I would LOVE  to lose at least 15 more pounds before the dreaded bathing suit season. If not, I think I may purchase a swim dress while my babies are too young to be embarrassed. Wholesome Wear anyone?

I’ve gotta get back to it. Maybe…tomorrow?

Anyone feel this way? Frustrated and annoyed with the pursuit of weight loss. It’s like the Neverending Story, but without the cool flying dragon/puppy, Falcor.

Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

Love to all,

Me: “Guess what?! It’s a beautiful day today and we get to go outside and play!”

Bitzy: “NO FANKS. I HAVE JAMMIE DAY TODAY.”

Me: “But look! It’s really pretty outside and we can go to the park! Do you want to go to the bird park or walk to the park in your stroller?”

Bitzy: “NO FANKS MAMA. I STAY HOME. IT IS JAMMIE DAY TODAY.”

Me: “What if we look for a Huffalump?”

Bitzy: “NO FANK YOU MAMA. HUFFALUMP IS WIT WINNIE DA POOH. HE’S TIRED AND READY FOR A NAP. HE NOT WANT TO PLAY.”

Me: “Oh, okay. What if we go to the bird park and look for duckies and birdies? Maybe we could even go down the big slide!”

Bitzy: (taps her chin), “HMMMM, OH OKAY. WIT YOU AND BROTHER BEAR?”

Me: “Yes, only me and Brother bear.”

Bitzy: “WHAT ‘BOUT DADDY-O?”

Me: (the most dreaded part of the morning when I break it to her that daddy is at work) “Well, unfortunately Daddyo had to work today. I’m so sorry, it’s so sad.”

Bitzy: (Lips quivering, head in hands) “NO! I WANT DADDY-O TO GO TO BIRD PARK WIT ME AND YOU AND BROTHER BEAR. IT’S NOT FAIR!” (as she crosses her arms. She learned this trick from a friend of hers who is 4 years old. Lovely isn’t?).

Me: “The fair isn’t coming here for a few months. They’ll be cows, bach-bach chickens, piggies, horses and lots of other animals. Are you excited for the fair?”

Bitzy: (confused), “UM, SURE. CAN WE GO TODAY? PWESE MAMA, CAN I? CAN I? CAN I?”

Me: “I’m sorry baby, the fair isn’t for a few months. Maybe we could go to the bird park instead?”

Bitzy: (taps her chin), “UMM, OKAY. CAN LILLY BELLE COME?” (one of our puppies).

Me: “I’m sorry honey, she can’t. Maybe next time when Daddy comes with us she can.”

Bitzy: “OH, OKAY. MAYBE WE SEE A SQUIR? (getting the spelling right on how she says squirrel is tough. Just imagine the cutest pronunciation possible).

Me: “Oh yes! And maybe even a goose!”

Bitzy: “NO FANKS MAMA. GOOSES ARE SCARY. THEY SAY “HONK, HONK, HONKEDY HONK!” (runs away laughing hysterically).

Me: “No, geese are very nice. Let’s get dressed and we’ll go try to find one.”

Bitzy: “UM, NO FANKS. IT’S JAMMIE DAY REMEMBER?”

Me: “Are you sure? It’s so nice outside! We can run and jump and play like Hannah” (in one of her books).

Bitzy: “OOOHHHH LIKE HANNAH? (taps chin) INTERESTING. OKAY LET’S DO IT DUDE!”

After finally convincing her to take her jammies off the above outfit is what she insisted on wearing…which clearly was much too cold for our “beautiful day” of 50 windy degrees.

Oh well, who needs the park? We stayed inside and had a “COWGUR DAY” instead.

She better go into politics someday. She’s quite the salesman.

Have I mentioned lately how much this child slays me? Ah, I just want to eat her up!

Love to all,

It’s early on Monday morning and the house is at rest.

All is quiet as my precious babies sleep soundly.

Before I had this amazing family and I was footloose and fancy free, silence made me uncomfortable. Like I needed to fill the space somehow. With music, talking, movies, friends, whatever. I never just sat still and enjoyed the quiet.

Now that our house is, how you say? Bustling, to say the least, silence is so fleeting that I must enjoy it while it lasts.

Now don’t get me wrong, the “MAMA PWAY TEA PARTY WIT ME?” from the sweetest little Bitziest voice ever, is truly one of the most precious sounds in the world. And Brothers new found “MMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAA” is magic to my ears. And I love playing, enjoying and loving my babies (I think we’ve well established that), but when all is quiet and everyone is tucked safety in bed I relish the silence.

Everything Bitzy does is hilarious to Brother. He is her biggest fan.

In fact, sometimes after both my babies are asleep and I walk down the stairs I literally collaspe on the couch. Motherhood is not for the weak friends. It’s exhausting work…but I can say with confidence that it’s the most fun job in the whole wide world. I have never been so deliriously happy to play all day and yet so thrilled to sit and soak in the silence after bedtime.

Tonight when I was rocking Brother to sleep (actually it was 5:30pm because he has decided that one nap a day will do, so he’s been sleeping 14 hours at night- is that odd?), I thought about how nursing is such a great opportunity to sit still. There is really nothing else to do but to sit still and nurse your sweetheart. Especially my little Curious George. The stiller I am, the better. So I pray mainly. I pray for my babies, for Zach, for peace, help, love, joy. You know, the usual. But tonight, I tried to not do anyting at all. Just to sit with not a thought in my head. Just to enjoy the silence as I gazed at my baby boy.

It took a few minutes, but finally it worked.

And I loved it.

How, how, how have I missed this phenomenon of silence? Oh glorious silence, I’ll never try to mute you out again.

God says to “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10) for a reason. I’m really going to work on this, because, silence? It’s good friends, real good.

Mother Teresa so eloquently said what my heart feels, “In the silence of the heart God speaks. If you face God in prayer and silence, God will speak to you. Then you will know that you are nothing. It is only when you realize your nothingness, your emptiness, that God can fill you with Himself. Souls of prayer are souls of great silence.”

May you all experience the joy of silence today as well.

Love to all,

Last night, around 3:00am, Zach let out a loud yell. Not so much a scream, but more of holler as they say.

It woke me up obviously. I’m not accustomed to my darling Zach yelling in the middle the night (a certain baby boy on the monitor I’m very familiar with however- ahem).

So I roll over and shook him awake.

Me: “Are you okay? You just yelled.”

Zach: “Oh, that was just my battle cry.”

Me: “Your battle cry?”

Zach: “Yes, I’m a warrior.”

And at that he drifted back into a deep sleep.

Can I just say that I love my husband?

I love that he dreams about being a warrior. I love that he has a battle cry. I love that he is a man.

A real man.

I love that he can fix most anything and that he isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.

I love that he is willing to fight for our family.

I love that I can ask him to draw a flower, grow a flower or buy me flowers and that he can and will do all three.

I love that he makes me proud to be his wife.

I love that he is stronger than an ox.

I love that he is a man of courage, honor and integrity.

I love that he loves me and can show me that love without hesitation or embarrassment. He’s so very good at loving me well.

I love that he loves our babies so much. He is truly the best daddy in the whole wide world.

I love that he learns more about how to be man and a warrior through God’s Word every day.

I love that not only dreams about being a warrior, but that he is one.

My warrior.

My hero.

Hands off girls, he’s all mine.

Love to all,

After two babies and breastfeeding hormones pumping away (ha, get it? I crack myself up), now it’s dark blonde. Apparently my hormones don’t like pretty blonde hair. They like mousey blonde/brown hair.

I’m told that this is normal, is it? Is this yet another way that I’m a total weirdo?  Has this happened to anyone else?

Before Brother was born and I worked part-time I would visit my trusty and talented hairdresser for all of my coloring needs. But now, our budget simply doesn’t allow it. Zach has begged me to go, to bite the bullet and pay the money, but I just can’t. Once you become insane about {not} spending money, dropping $100 on hair just doesn’t make sense to me like it once did.

At first, I was in total deniel that I even needed color. I figured that I would “get used” to having darker hair. In fact, I went nearly 6 months without any coloring help at all.

It was a sad, sad time.

Then, it occured to me that maybe, just maybe I could do it myself. All I had to do was follow the instructions on the box, right? I mean, how hard could it be? So, I bought a highlighting kit. When I got it home and read the directions I saw the cute little cap. It was then and there that it became clear that in no universe could I hightlight my own hair. Patience is NOT my bag, it’s just not. And, let’s face it, my darling husband isn’t exactly hairdresser material.

So I gave up for a few days and declared that having pretty hair was a thing of the past.

But then, I thought of my friend Candyce. Candyce is one of those people that knows something about everything. So, I emailed her and gave her the scoop.

To my delight, she knew exactly what to do! She gave me detailed instructions on what to get for an all over color. Forget the highlighting kit! Putting a bunch of chemicals all over my head like shampoo is much more my speed.

Like a good little student I followed her instructions to the letter. After my babies were in bed I went to get this sacred box of beauty. When I got home I did exactly what the kit said to do.

And, wait for it…

It wasn’t terrible.

It wasn’t great, but definitely not terrible.

I tried to convince myself that it was totally awesome to have semi strawberry blonde roots while the rest of my hair was kind of a mix between brown and blonde splotches. Ever positive, I figured that it could be worse.

After a week or so, I went back to the store and got another kind. A lighter shade this time. At first I was timid to go too blonde because I felt like my hair was practically black.

Dramatic much?

And then, WAMMMOOOOO! It was great. In fact, it was kind of awesome.

So awesome that I’ve been using a box to color my hair for months now. The last time I got a haircut the hairdresser actually commented on how great my color looked. Imagine her surprise when I told her that it was from a box! Ha!

But like every little story there is sometimes controversy.

Cue: Last Night.

On my weekly trip to The Wal-mart, I casually looked for some color. I’m not true to a brand or even a certain color, I like to keep my options open in the world of hair coloring.

I had a price match and coupon for Loreal Healthy Look so I grabbed a box. When I got it I realized that it was on clearance for $5.00. Double score.

*Note to self: When buying hair color, never, ever, never, ever, never, ever buy it if it’s on clearance. Got it?

When I got home I innocently put on my chemical shampoo (that’s my pet name for my hair color. Isn’t it fitting?), waited my 10 minutes and washed it out.

As I got out of the shower I noticed that it looked a little dark, but no worries, I figured that when it dried it would be lighter and brighter.

Um, no.

It was brown.

That’s right.

Today, I was a brunette.

I would like to think that I looked like my bestie Sandy, but I fear that I did not.

For one thing, there are no tropicial flowers up in here and secondly, the sun hasn’t shined in months it seems. Well, and the obvious, that Sandy is a supermodel, and I am sadly, not.

Honestly today I really didn’t even think about it much. Something about chasing babies really takes my vanity away, in fact, I barely noticed it. But when Bitzy and Brother went to sleep I remembered.

Oh, did I remember.

I said to Zach, “So did you notice that I’m a brunette now?”

Zach: “Um, yes. It looks, um, great.”

Me: “Oh, come on! It looks nasty. Just admit it.”

Zach: “It’s not brown, it’s just darker. You’re so dramatic.”

Me: “I’m so not dramatic! Ah! It may not be brown, but it’s BY FAR the darkest it’s ever been.”

Zach: “I’ll give you that. But you look beautiful no matter what.”

Me: “Now that’s convincing. I’m going to The Wal-mart, be back soon.”

This time around I didn’t even take a coupon. It’s true, I admit it. Granted I still had a price-match, but I was on a mission to lose the brown, I could not be bothered with a coupon.

I found the most expensive box they had. It was $7.97, which in the world of hair coloring is a lot. And it was gold. It looked very fancy. It was the one.

It does say it’s “Superior” and “Luminous” after all. Granted, I have absolutely no idea what luminous means, but it sounds delightful.

Then, I did the whole routine and WALLLLLAHHHHHAAAAA, I’m blonde again.

Hallelujah!

I’m not cut out to be a brunette friends.

Long live the boxed blondes!

Have you ever had any hair dye disasters? Care to share?

Love to all,

I’m normally pretty confident in my decorating, but this time, I’m stumped! Help me decorate my house!!!!

The following pictures show you the staircase which highlight my gorgeous babies at 6 months old. I love every single thing about these pictures, but I’m struggling with what (if anything) should go between them.

What do you think?

Is less more?

I was thinking maybe several pictures between the two? A collage perhaps? But I don’t want to take away from the amazing pictures…

See? I need your help.

Take a look at the space….

Also? I MUST figure out a way to organize the toys that are overtaking my house. Look at Picture #2. Any ideas on how to make that shelf more presentable? It looks so messy! Drives me bananas!

Help, Help, Help!!!!

Love to all,

I don’t consider myself especially crafty. Creative, sure. But crafty? Nah.

I do, however, own a glue gun. So that’s gotta mean something, right?

Anyway, as you well know I am all about saving cash. So, a few months ago I began making my own laundry detergent. It’s simple, works well and it’s CHEAP.

In fact, I’m such a fan that I made a fresh batch for some of our precious family members for Christmas.

Recipe (I took some ideas from several websites and then came up with my own):

One bar of mild soap. I use Castle, but Ivory would work too.

One cup Borax

One cup Baking Soda

Several drops of Peppermint Oil

First things first. Get an air tight container. I used Glass Jars for gifts and for my own I use a bucket with a lid (out of reach of babies- obviously).

Then, grate your soap with a cheese grater very finely. The finer the better. (This is a pain, but hang in there).

Then mix the soap with Borax and Baking Soda.

*Note, you can also use Washing Soda. Both work, I just prefer Baking Soda.

*Double Note, for your home use triple recipe for a large amount.

*Triple Note, I’ve made liquid and powder and I personally prefer the powder. The liquid recipe is the same you just cook the soap down until it’s liquid and pour into a bucket with powder mixture.

*Quadrupole Note, I bought all the ingredients with price matching and coupons (’cause I refuse to pay full price for anything these days), and it came to $.003-$.006 per load (depending on whether you use one or two tablespoons). Like I said, CHEAP.

Use 1-2 Tablespoons per load.

This is a super cheap and natural alternative to harsh detergents! Plus, they make super cute gifts!

Love to all,

Do you ever look at your life and think you’re dreaming? Do you look at the pictures of your spouse and/or your babies and think that there’s no way that they’re yours?

No? Just me?

As if I needed another confirmation that I am completely crazycakes.

Sometimes at night when all is quiet and the babies are nestled snug in their beds I look at the pictures on the walls and think, “Are those my babies? When did that happen? Could it be?”

You see, they are my dream come true. Really and truly, they are.

The messes and diapers and tantrums and nap strikes and books and hair bows and vomit, are part of that dream. Granted, some of those things aren’t exactly fun, but they are part of the job. And now, at this very moment, I’m living the dream.

Bitzy is currently choosing to jump in her crib shouting “Zoom, Zoom, Zoom” rather than taking a nap, while Brother is sleeping soundly in his crib snuggled with his lovey. As I watch them on the video monitor my heart swells with gratitude.

I have always dreamed of being a Mama, but now that it has come true, it’s almost more than my heart can bear. It’s too wonderful, too amazing. I am simply in awe of how magnificent they are.

When I sit back and really think about the intricacy involved in creating a human being, I am stunned into thankfulness. How God so masterfully knit these beautiful creatures together in my womb and so generously gifted them to Zach and me. We are not worthy of such amazing gifts. But by God’s grace He continues to help us love and care of these babies.

I am humbled by the gift of them, I really am.

Life is so precious, I want to soak them up and memorize them every single day.

Thank you Lord for the gift of my children, You are so good.

Love to all,

Brother Bear was asleep and missed our smushy face pic!

So yesterday was my birthday.

It was a perfect day full of Jesus, Zach and my babies. The perfect combo pack.

The funny thing is though, no matter how old I get, I always think I’m 22.

I don’t just pretend, I really think it.

When someone says, “How old are you?” I immediately think that I’m 22.

But not just me. Everyone I know is apparently 22 as well.

For example, not too long ago I was out to dinner with my lady friends and one of my dear darlings said that she went out on a date with a guy who was really nice but older than her. When I asked how old and she responded that he was 38.

38?

“You can’t go out with him! He’s 16 years older than you! He’s way too old for you!”

Then, all of my friends looked at me like I was a crazy person (more than usual).

“You know that I’m not 22 any more, right?”

“Oh my. You’re not? How old are you anyway?”

See? Everyone is 22 forever.

In my defense, 22 was a darn good year for me. I met my Zach, graduated from college, moved to Louisville, started my first job, met some of my best friends and lived on my own. It was quite eventful, but so wonderful.

Now that I’m, ahem, not 22, every year continues to be eventful…and wonderful.

In my old age I am beginning to become more thankful for birthdays, because well, the alternative is grim. But then I get greedy, panicky almost. Like I have to super pumped to get older because I’m so frantic about something happening to me and leaving my babies and Zach.

So, with gratitude I celebrate another birthday full of wrinkles, sags and headaches!!!!

Being 22 isn’t so bad after all! Keep ‘em coming!

Love to all,

This picture has absolutely nothing to do with this little story. Just thought I’d share some eye candy.

Ha! You thought I was going to say that I just started running again didn’t you?

Now THAT would be very sad story.

Because friends, that means that I would have died.

I think I’m too old to run.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Anyway, my sweet little precious ones have given me a run for the money this week.

Between Brother teething and Bitzy struggling with being very off schedule since Christmas and trying to get back on schedule, it’s been a doozy of a week.

This Mama is very excited for Daddy to be home with us this weekend.

But then, in the midst of the exhaustion, as I nursed and rocked sweet Brother bear to sleep, as his eyes got heavier and heavier he unlatched, locked eyes with me and smiled the most beautiful smile. Almost as if to say, “I love you Mama, goodnight.”

What a gift.

And then, as I tucked Bitzy into her crib with her blankies after rocking and reading, she sleepily whispered, “Goodnight Kanga, I love you.” And I smiled and said, “Goodnight Sweet Roo. I love you.”

And that my friends, is what it’s all about.

Have a great weekend friends!

Love to all,

My very first post about poop was many moons ago. Read it here.

It’s sweet that I thought I was a Poopologist then. Ha, aha, ahahahahaha. Since then, I have earned several doctorates in the subject. In fact, almost every single day I wake up with a nice stew of pee and poop all over me.

Nice, eh?

You see, my sweet Brother bear has gone from being the best little sleeper ever, to, well, NOT the best little sleeper ever. Sure, he’s no Bitzy. He doesn’t hate sleep with the sincere hatred that she did as a baby, but still, I feel like we’re on a slippery slope.

{more to come on that later}.

All that said, he normally wakes up ready to eat, snuggle, cuddle around 6:00am. If I just feed him and lay him down in the crib he’ll scream his brains out, however, if I bring him into bed with me (Zach is long gone at this point) then he’ll eat and go back to sleep for another hour or two.

And clearly I don’t mind the snuggles, not one bit.

What I do mind? Him waking up every 3 hours during the night. You got that right. The child is 7 months old and he goes to bed at 7:00pm and wakes to eat every 3 hours until 6:00am.

What I mind more? The fact that his tiny little size 3 diapers simple cannot hold the massive amounts of excrement coming from his sweet little booty. I’ve tried double diapering, bigger sizes, changing him during the night…nothing works.

No matter what, ever single morning as I breathe him in and try to memorize the way his chest rises and falls, I also smell the sweet smell of baby poop as it oozes all over me.

Yummy, no?

Ah, motherhood.

Someday when I’m old and grey I will miss many things about my babies being tiny…but I have a feeling I will not miss being pooped on every.single.day.

Love to all,

There are many things about this picture that I love…and then some others that I find extremely disturbing.

As I always try to find the silver lining, let’s start with the positive. In fact, my friend Bethany has taught me the rule of PNP (Positive, Negative, Positive). So here we go:

Positive: Bitzy is having a blast. She’s a sucker for the playground. And the swing? Around 8 months old she began her love affair with swinging. Then, as suddenly as it started she banned all swings everywhere. Just the sight of them started her saying, “No, no, no!” Just recently she has shyly ventured back in. We’re starting slowly but surely. Kids are so strange and funny about things…

Negative: Will you look at me? I look like a frumpy Mommy. I may as well have on mom jeans. If I ever needed some motivation for Weight Watchers this is it. Well, and maybe a makeover from What Not to Wear. And I look old? When did I get so old?

Positive:  The owl hat. The cuteness just makes me die and go to heaven. Whoever came up with the concept of the owl hat needs a Nobel Prize. It just slays me. In case you need more evidence, here’s a picture of Brother wearing his too.

My Mama, AKA: Gammy got the sweet owl hats for my babies for Christmas. If you’d like to order one go here. (Linda has no idea that I’m doing this, so, SURPRISE Linda! I love the hats!!!).

Love to all,

Me: “Hey Bitzy Boo, would you like some water baby?”

Bitzy: “NO THANK YOU MAMA, JUST A POLAR BEAR.”

Me: “Hmmm…OK. Well, I don’t have a polar bear, but I do have some water. Would you like some?”

Bitzy: “LET ME SEE,” as she taps her chin, “NO WATER, JUST A POLAR BEAR.”

Me: “Okay, I just need to run into the dining room for a minute and pick up our new polar bear, one second.” (I walk into the dining and count 1-2-3). “OK, here’s your very own polar bear named Polly! Hooray for Polly the Polar Bear!” as I hand her a pretend polar bear.

Bitzy: “NO MAMA, A REAL POLAR BEAR, NOT A TEND ONE. PLEASE MAMA. CAN I, CAN, CAN I?”

Me: “Here’s the problem. Polar bears live in the North Pole with Santa. It would be really hard for our family to have a pet polar bear. But I do have a pretend one named Polly. Wanna play with her?”

Bitzy: “NO THANK YOU.” Then she sits in the floor and puts her face in her hands. “I’M SO, SO, SO SAD. I MISS MY BABY POLAR BEAR.”

Me: “I know baby, it’s hard. I wish we could have a pet polar bear too. Maybe we should move to the North Pole with Santa.”

Bitzy: She totally brightens up and says, “GREAT IDEA MAMA. ME, YOU, SANTA, LEONARD, DADDY AND BROTHER WILL LIVE AT POLLY POLAR BEARS HOUSE WITH HER GRANDMA. IT WILL BE AWESOME. I SO CITED!”

Me. “Of course it will be. I’m so glad we worked that out. Now, how about some water?”

Bitzy: “SURE MAMA. SOUNDS GREAT, I VERY THIRSTY.”

Whew.

Love to all,

]]> http://littlestorieseverywhere.com/conversations-part-3/feed/ 3